


Wedding Gift

by textbookMobster



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ana loves to tease, As a former pilot Lena is best wingman, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Shenanigans, Silly Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/textbookMobster/pseuds/textbookMobster
Summary: Christmas is right around the corner and Lena still hasn't found the perfect gift for Angela. Too bad she can't just gift wrap Fareeha and be done with it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for [fish](http://fish-mouth.tumblr.com/), one of our discord admins! Thanks for setting up the Secret Santa for us. :)

Lena's never been one for subtle questions. Feet dangling from atop the examination table, eyes wandering restlessly, her thoughts like crows, circle low in search of conversation starters. She fidgets under Angela's gaze and blurts out, "Hey, Ange, what d'you want for Christmas?"

"Still haven't done your shopping yet, Lena?" Nimble fingers redress the laceration across her bicep. "And with so much time in your hands."

"Oof. You got me there, Doc." She hops down and gives Angela her customary pistol-salute. "Can't convince you to make things easy for me, eh?"

"And ruin the surprise?" Angela smiles and puts away her medkit. "I don't need anything fancy, Lena. Your company will do."

"Is that right, Doc? You sure it's not some other bird's company you'd rather have as a Christmas present? Because y'know, I could wrap her up all pretty for you if you like." The flush tinting Angela's cheeks more than makes up for the promise of murder in her smile.

"What Fareeha is comfortable doing for me is her business. Now off, you scamp! If you're looking for someone to enable your mischief, you've gone to the wrong doctor."

Lena waves and makes a run for the exit, almost slamming right into Angela's desk by the door. She trips, arms flailing frantically, and falls face first into a fallen pile of magazines. "Golly, Ange. When did you put that old thing there?"

"This office came with that desk, Lena."

"Mmhmm." That's bloody embarrassing that; usually Lena's reflexes are more than enough to save her from such a comical pratfall. "Sorry, Doc," she mumbles, picking up the magazines and rearranging them on top of Angela's desk. The covers give her pause before she flees the scene of the crime, not wanting to further incur Angela's wrath.

(She's not sure if the wedding magazines are strictly _Angela's eyes only_ but she's not about to risk medbay privileges just to find out.)

Too bad she can't get Angela a wedding for Christmas. That would be. Kind of weird right?

* * *

Between making time for her estranged daughter, mission prep, and rekindling her old information network, Ana rarely has free time. Not that she minds, usually; being busy is a welcome distraction. So, finding a lull in her schedule, she does the first thing that comes to her mind: she finds more work to do.

She raps at the door frame and watches Angela flutter around, setting aside a datapad that presumably has schematics of her suit's latest improvements. "Angela, got a moment?"

"For you, Ana, always."

She laughs. "Please, Angela. I know you're sleeping with my daughter. No need to curry favour; you know I already approve."

" _Mein Gott!_ I am not so superficial. You know I'd make time for an old friend."

"And now you are calling me old?" Ana grins and makes tutting noises. "How quickly you change your tune, my dear."

She enjoys this kind of banter with Angela, who is so easy to tease. (Unlike Fareeha, who is so careful around her. Shy smiles and brief touches, as if being around Ana would break her.) Ah, but she isn't here for heartache and regrets. "Angela, Angela, you wouldn't happen to have work for _an old friend_ , hmm?"

The young doctor hesitates, glances briefly at her desk and shrugs, "And keep you from your family, Ana? You know Fareeha misses you, why not go to her instead?"

Because she's not sure how to bridge the gap between them. Because she's not sure how best to apologize for a selfish decision made, the years of absence still too sharp and too fresh for either of them to forget. "Old habits, I suppose," she says lightly, and makes a mental note to pester someone else the next time she's free.

"Fareeha's doing maintenance on her suit. I mean—if you'd like to stop by sometime."

Ana sighs. "It's a pity she takes after me."

"Is it really?" Angela reaches for her arm, the warmth of her hand a silent reassurance. "Personally, I find her dedication very endearing."

"Makes you wonder," Ana says out loud, smiling bitterly, "who is the daughter and who is the suitor, no?" She takes a second glance at Angela's desk and finds a chance diversion to keep Angela from confronting what she has yet to acknowledge. ( _I really must have a talk with Fareeha. But not today._ ) "What's this? A wedding and no invite for dear old mum? And here I thought you were almost respectable, Angela."

Angela flushes. "T-they are _just_ magazines, Ana!"

"So you are not interested in marrying my daughter?"

"Now you are just putting words into my mouth," she grumbles, shoving the offending magazines into a random drawer.

"Ah, but it's an in-law's prerogative to tease."

"We're not married yet!"

* * *

Their base in Gibraltar is built against the stone. It's a secret lair—despite what others might say—with little natural light filtering through. Fortunately, their in-house AI more than makes up for it.

At exactly six in the morning each day, dim light along the edges of Fareeha's bedroom begins to glow, simulating the rising dawn. It's a pleasant feeling to wake up to, made all the better with Angela still sleeping by her side.

There's a lightness in her chest, a bubbling happiness that spills over into sheer fondness. She chuckles softly to herself and leaves a chaste kiss on Angela's forehead. It's the best part of her morning ritual.

She picks up Angela's pile of magazines by the floor—a present for her mum apparently?—and stows them away before walking barefooted towards the bathroom to freshen up. By the time she returns with a cup of coffee in one hand, Angela is awake, frowning at an old sewing machine Winston had found for her.

"Is this about that joint gift you and Reinhardt were talking about?" Fareeha asks all too innocently, setting the cup next to Angela.

"I've promised Reinhardt I wouldn't tell a single soul about this project, Fareeha. And I mean to keep that promise."

Fareeha grins and brushes aside strands of gold, her thumb caressing Angela's cheek. "Well, I'm sure Mum will love it, whatever it is."

The moment is broken by the sound of feet scampering outside. "Ah, I think that's my cue to go," Fareeha says, just as Lena pokes her head in their bedroom.

"Hiya, Chief! Ready for some shopping?"

"Keep her out of trouble now."

"You can count on me!" Lena says, giving Angela a thumbs up.

Fareeha shakes her head and drags Lena away like an exasperated owner with an over-sized pup. "We'll be back by dinner, Angela. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

It isn't until they're in a quaint little shop looking for dad mugs that Fareeha realizes Lena's been staring at her with an expression that just about screams, "Please ask me what's on my mind."

She lifts an eyebrow in faint amusement and says, "Lena, if there's something you'd like to tell me . . . ."

Lena blinks owlishly and sputters. "Right, um, well. W-what do you think about marriage? Hypothetically."

Fareeha lifts her other eyebrow up. "Is this about that girl you've been seeing? The one that we're pretending doesn't exist?"

"No, no!" Lena folds her arms and huffs. "It's just—you and Ange, you've gotten all that domestic stuff figured out already. How come you haven't tied the knot yet, yeah?"

_Oh._ Fareeha feels her cheeks warm with embarrassment. She glances down at the ceramic mug she'd been considering for Reinhardt and frowns. Her mother had never married, and with Overwatch being on the wanted list and everything, it just didn't occur to her to ask. "Hey, Lena."

"Yeah, Chief?"

"Thanks. You're a lot smarter than I give you credit for."

Lena laughs, bright and cheerful, and elbows Fareeha good-naturedly. "Maybe that's what I want you to think!"

"So you want me to think you're smart, because you're actually not?"

"No!" Lena groans. "Wanker."

"Do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth?" Fareeha teases.

"No, but I'll kiss yours!" There's an awkward silence as the ramifications of Lena's retort catches up to her. "Not that I would kiss Cap because that would be weird. And wrong. And Reinhardt might just charge me off a cliff."

* * *

She goes to Reinhardt afterwards. (Not to out Lena of course. That would be silly.) She goes because. Well, because she's not sure what to make of the suggestion that's now firmly rooted in her mind: marriage and all the possibilities that it offers. But also.

Maybe. Maybe she's just not sure how to ask.

"Ah, Fareeha! It's so good to see you," Reinhardt says, pulling the young woman in a bear hug. "I heard you went shopping earlier! How was it?"

"It was nice." Fareeha smiles up at Reinhardt and perches at the edge of his bed. "Lena was really helpful, actually."

"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Um, yeah." She fidgets and sighs. "Listen, Reinhardt, you know I love Angela very much and—"

"Oh! If you're asking me for her hand in marriage, you can go right ahead, my dear. Ana already told me."

She blinks, surprised. "She did?"

"Yes!" He lights up and turns to his desk, rummaging through his drawers. "I was going to save this for your mother, but I think you might need this more. I can always ask Brigitte to make me another."

"Another?"

He pauses and laughs, looking a little embarrassed. "I suppose this is a good time as any, Fareeha." He hunches down so that they're staring eye to eye. "I would like to marry your mother, if she'll have me." He takes one of her hands and gives her a ring with a lion emblem.

She grins.

* * *

The wedding happens in May.

They return to Eichenwalde after the snow has thawed with thoughts of rebuilding—and renewing.

The village at the foot of the castle still lies abandoned, but with some work, it might become a proper village once more. For now though, it is the perfect place for a private celebration.

Reinhardt looks younger than ever, wearing a replica of his master's old armour. He's with Ana, laughing boisterously, dancing across the cobblestoned street. Winston and Lena are sitting atop the small archway leading into the main plaza. There are wistful looks on both of their faces. (Winston dreams of family. Of finding his own one day. Lena, well. There's a girl she likes. But that's a story for another day.)

Further into the plaza, Angela and Fareeha are joined at the hip, watching their friends and family dance under the light of the moon. There are matching rings on both their hands, and for once, there is no confusion. There's a wedding, and it is theirs, and Ana's and Reinhardt's.

It couldn't be any more perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I would have brought Emily as Lena's plus one to the wedding, but this was finished pre-Reflections. Whoops! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
